"I am not giving up. I never give up...I'm...transcending the situation." -Sheldon, from 'Big Bang Theory' (How I've felt about the past...approximately...week.)
"We finished that lecture a little early, so should we take an extra long break before the next one? There might be other people coming...What? Ok then, screw 'em." -Dr Z
"No, you don't want to give lorazepam to someone who's already intoxicated. They have a tendency to stop breathing." -another lecturer
"The appearance of oligodendrocytes on section is mostly due to artifact...but we're just neuropathologists, so a reproducible artifact is good enough for us." -yet another lecturer
Showing posts with label humor. Show all posts
Showing posts with label humor. Show all posts
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
Finals Week Poetry Breakdown
Reflecting on this block's learning experiences, with a poetic form suited for each.
Pathology (the haiku, a form of infinite subtlety, that nonetheless comes down to just a handful of words--much like a path report).
Bridging necrosis
and Mallory's hyaline:
cirrhosis, but why?
Kill the eponyms?
But won't we hurt Cushing
and Virchow's feelings?
If I never see
One more liver biopsy
It won't make me sad.
Bullous pemphigoid
or mycosis fungoides?
Which one looks grosser?
Dermatology (couplets--short and sweet, and simple to write, just like prescriptions for Retin-A and steroid cream).
Your autoantibodies to desmoglein three
mean pemphigus vulgaris. Better you than me.
I'm sorry to inform you, your mole's cellular division
has crossed the line, and now it's time for a complete excision.
The necklace hubby bought you has given you a rash;
it's called contact dermatitis; next time, tell him, blow more cash.
(Especially for Dr. A. C. L. of dermatopath):
If the lesion is pigmented but the biopsy's a shave
expect at best an angry phone call and at worst an early grave.
Endocrine (Limericks--because everyone knows endocrinology is funny. Right? Um.)
A woman who hailed from Tacoma
had a sizable prolactinoma.
She started lactating,
but more devastating,
Her leg hair required a comb-a.
The doctor she saw told her, "Well,
I can see something wrong in your sell'
turcica--if you're keen,
Try this cabergoline,"
And she did, and it all turned out swell.
GI still to come...
Pathology (the haiku, a form of infinite subtlety, that nonetheless comes down to just a handful of words--much like a path report).
Bridging necrosis
and Mallory's hyaline:
cirrhosis, but why?
Kill the eponyms?
But won't we hurt Cushing
and Virchow's feelings?
If I never see
One more liver biopsy
It won't make me sad.
Bullous pemphigoid
or mycosis fungoides?
Which one looks grosser?
Dermatology (couplets--short and sweet, and simple to write, just like prescriptions for Retin-A and steroid cream).
Your autoantibodies to desmoglein three
mean pemphigus vulgaris. Better you than me.
I'm sorry to inform you, your mole's cellular division
has crossed the line, and now it's time for a complete excision.
The necklace hubby bought you has given you a rash;
it's called contact dermatitis; next time, tell him, blow more cash.
(Especially for Dr. A. C. L. of dermatopath):
If the lesion is pigmented but the biopsy's a shave
expect at best an angry phone call and at worst an early grave.
Endocrine (Limericks--because everyone knows endocrinology is funny. Right? Um.)
A woman who hailed from Tacoma
had a sizable prolactinoma.
She started lactating,
but more devastating,
Her leg hair required a comb-a.
The doctor she saw told her, "Well,
I can see something wrong in your sell'
turcica--if you're keen,
Try this cabergoline,"
And she did, and it all turned out swell.
GI still to come...
Monday, November 30, 2009
Healthcare professionals make the worst patients
So after the heady delight of yesterday's clear liquid diet and colonoscopy prep (read the details here, if you're inclined--it included 1) a grand total of 17 trips to the bathroom, 2) the drinking of 2 liters of a substance whose foulness could probably be approximated by mixing together 2 liters unsweetened lemonade, a cup of salt, and a few tablespoons of rancid butter, 3) my internal organs producing rumblings and gurgles more commonly associated with active volcanoes and hot springs)--came the event itself. The things I remember, after the glorious sedative/miracle that is Versed:
1) The anesthesiologist was kind of a jerk. Not mean; just not real heavy on the people skills. Example: "Did you eat or drink anything today?" "Yes, some diet coke. A few ounces." "When?" "To take my Synthroid this morning..." (interruption) "I said when, not why." Maybe I'm hypersensitive, but slow your roll there, Dr. Feelgood. I flushed a little bit at this--because hey, I'm here in a 2-ply paper gown about to have someone spelunking in my colon; I'm worried about my own asshole, so I don't want to worry about what you've got wedged up yours right now. "You've got a sort of rash on your chest. Have you noticed that?" Poking my chest, checking to see if it blanches...poke, poke, poke. Hey, why not ask before you start prodding? Just a thought. And I'm flushed because I'm pissed off but I'm not good at verbalizing anger.
2) The nurses were awesome, as nurses usually are. Warm blankets, and this hose that essentially blew warm air through the blankets I had on to keep me toasty while I waited. Someday I'm going to make friends with a medical supply rep and get one of those for my house. Or, you know, an electric blanket. Probably cheaper.
There was one bit of an awkward moment--the nurse was explaining things to me in that reassuring way that nurses have, while I was looking at the pulse oximetry reading and trying to consciously lower my heart rate to sub-tachycardic levels (have I mentioned I'm kind of tightly wound? And that I've been obsessed with controlling my heart rate and blood pressure since I read an article on biofeedback in sixth grade?). "And you can just relax--we'll have machines to keep track of your heart and your breathing, and the doctor will give you some medicine to make you nice and sleepy...now what grade did you say you were in?" (I'd mentioned being a student.) "I'm a second year medical student."
3)Apparently the doctor came into the recovery room and explained everything, but damned if I remember anything. Thanks again, Versed!
1) The anesthesiologist was kind of a jerk. Not mean; just not real heavy on the people skills. Example: "Did you eat or drink anything today?" "Yes, some diet coke. A few ounces." "When?" "To take my Synthroid this morning..." (interruption) "I said when, not why." Maybe I'm hypersensitive, but slow your roll there, Dr. Feelgood. I flushed a little bit at this--because hey, I'm here in a 2-ply paper gown about to have someone spelunking in my colon; I'm worried about my own asshole, so I don't want to worry about what you've got wedged up yours right now. "You've got a sort of rash on your chest. Have you noticed that?" Poking my chest, checking to see if it blanches...poke, poke, poke. Hey, why not ask before you start prodding? Just a thought. And I'm flushed because I'm pissed off but I'm not good at verbalizing anger.
2) The nurses were awesome, as nurses usually are. Warm blankets, and this hose that essentially blew warm air through the blankets I had on to keep me toasty while I waited. Someday I'm going to make friends with a medical supply rep and get one of those for my house. Or, you know, an electric blanket. Probably cheaper.
There was one bit of an awkward moment--the nurse was explaining things to me in that reassuring way that nurses have, while I was looking at the pulse oximetry reading and trying to consciously lower my heart rate to sub-tachycardic levels (have I mentioned I'm kind of tightly wound? And that I've been obsessed with controlling my heart rate and blood pressure since I read an article on biofeedback in sixth grade?). "And you can just relax--we'll have machines to keep track of your heart and your breathing, and the doctor will give you some medicine to make you nice and sleepy...now what grade did you say you were in?" (I'd mentioned being a student.) "I'm a second year medical student."
3)Apparently the doctor came into the recovery room and explained everything, but damned if I remember anything. Thanks again, Versed!
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Day of Diarrhea
Laugh, if you must. After 6 hours of lecture and small groups devoted to the intricacies of the human bowels, I certainly did. Maybe I was a little slap-happy, getting back in the swing of things after an entire (gasp!) 48 hours sans studying--but by the last hour of lecture yesterday, I was seeing double-entendres everywhere.
"There are two etiologic categories for diarrhea. Number one isn't that important, but number two..." *Snicker*
"There is a wide range of frequencies for bowel movements." (Display of an actual GRAPH of the number of bowel movements per day--in case you were wondering, 'normal' runs from three times a day to three times a week, and the median is once a day.) "As you can see, the graph peaks at once a day, and sort of tapers at either end." *Hee hee*
"Diarrhea is frustrating to diagnose, but it usually comes out all right at the end." *Further laughter, and the recognition that I have the maturity of a fifth-grader.*
"There are two etiologic categories for diarrhea. Number one isn't that important, but number two..." *Snicker*
"There is a wide range of frequencies for bowel movements." (Display of an actual GRAPH of the number of bowel movements per day--in case you were wondering, 'normal' runs from three times a day to three times a week, and the median is once a day.) "As you can see, the graph peaks at once a day, and sort of tapers at either end." *Hee hee*
"Diarrhea is frustrating to diagnose, but it usually comes out all right at the end." *Further laughter, and the recognition that I have the maturity of a fifth-grader.*
Monday, November 2, 2009
Awards
Today we had the 'Distinguished Service Teaching Awards' at school. Which mostly translated into 'free reception snackies and diet Coke...and alcohol, but no alcohol for you, because you're trying to cram another hundred renal facts into your cranial vault in the next twelve hours, and champagne will not help you do that.' So, in the spirit of such awards, let's hear it for The Body Systems, Organs, Diseases, and General Medical Stuff Awards! Yay! (Sponsored by Valtrex).
Most alarming symptom that's usually fine: Rectal bleeding. Notice I'm NOT a doctor, but rectal bleeding, especially when accompanied by pain, is usually hemorrhoids--and you'll usually be fine in a couple days if you get your hands (well, not your hands exactly...) on some hydrocortisone suppositories. Yes, suddenly being confronted with unexpected blood--particularly from this region--is distressing (as I *almost* said to my physician when she asked 'how much' bleeding I was having, "I don't think there's an acceptable lower limit for ass blood"), but it's nowhere near as bad as, say, vomiting blood.
Most innocuous condition that makes me wish I were dead: It's a tie between menstrual cramps and migraines, both of which feel like I have tiny angry elves inside my body trying to hack their way out with pickaxes. Sometimes I get both at once (oh joy! It's fairly common, apparently, and has to do with all those shifting lady hormones), and all I can do is stay perfectly still in my dark, dark, bedroom with earplugs in and a heating pad on. Oh, and take Ultram. I don't think it's a narcotic...
Grossest-looking infection that is in no way dangerous: Onychomycosis, or for those playing the home game, fungal infections of the nail bed. The thing is, it's not limited to people with poor hygeine, either...sometimes you'll be at the pool and some cute little twentysomething will walk by and only when you look down do you notice that she has, not to put too fine a point on it, toenails like corn chips. Fritos.
Prettiest-sounding infection that's actually quite gross: Chlamydia.
Most recent disease to be stripped of eponym status: Wegener's Granulomatosis, now ANCA+ vasculitis or granulomatosis (because it turns out Dr. Wegener was a Nazi, which is actually really not cool).
Laziest 'organ'- The appendix. Yeah, that's right, I put organ in scare quotes.
Overachieving organ: The liver. It does everything. If you've been reading this blog for any length of time you know my love of the liver is vast.
Organ so large and in charge you don't even think of it as an organ: The brain. More than a traditional dish in the zombie-American community; it's what keeps everything running smoothly.
Most alarming symptom that's usually fine: Rectal bleeding. Notice I'm NOT a doctor, but rectal bleeding, especially when accompanied by pain, is usually hemorrhoids--and you'll usually be fine in a couple days if you get your hands (well, not your hands exactly...) on some hydrocortisone suppositories. Yes, suddenly being confronted with unexpected blood--particularly from this region--is distressing (as I *almost* said to my physician when she asked 'how much' bleeding I was having, "I don't think there's an acceptable lower limit for ass blood"), but it's nowhere near as bad as, say, vomiting blood.
Most innocuous condition that makes me wish I were dead: It's a tie between menstrual cramps and migraines, both of which feel like I have tiny angry elves inside my body trying to hack their way out with pickaxes. Sometimes I get both at once (oh joy! It's fairly common, apparently, and has to do with all those shifting lady hormones), and all I can do is stay perfectly still in my dark, dark, bedroom with earplugs in and a heating pad on. Oh, and take Ultram. I don't think it's a narcotic...
Grossest-looking infection that is in no way dangerous: Onychomycosis, or for those playing the home game, fungal infections of the nail bed. The thing is, it's not limited to people with poor hygeine, either...sometimes you'll be at the pool and some cute little twentysomething will walk by and only when you look down do you notice that she has, not to put too fine a point on it, toenails like corn chips. Fritos.
Prettiest-sounding infection that's actually quite gross: Chlamydia.
Most recent disease to be stripped of eponym status: Wegener's Granulomatosis, now ANCA+ vasculitis or granulomatosis (because it turns out Dr. Wegener was a Nazi, which is actually really not cool).
Laziest 'organ'- The appendix. Yeah, that's right, I put organ in scare quotes.
Overachieving organ: The liver. It does everything. If you've been reading this blog for any length of time you know my love of the liver is vast.
Organ so large and in charge you don't even think of it as an organ: The brain. More than a traditional dish in the zombie-American community; it's what keeps everything running smoothly.
Friday, October 30, 2009
Quotes from Urology Lectures
First, I wonder what urologists tell people they do at parties. It seems like one of those areas of employment where, despite the fact that it took over twenty years of schooling to attain, you might be tempted to...well, not embellish the truth. Not embroider it, certainly...but, perhaps, omit. "I'm a doctor," you'd say, or a surgeon. I'm in men's health, maybe. Because otherwise there will be jokes, almost certainly of questionable quality, and the teller will probably think he's the first one ever to think of something so hilarious, and you'll get thrown out of the party when you finally succumb to temptation and punch him in his damn mouth. That said, some quotes from our urology lectures.
"It's very important to find out what kind of sexual dysfunction a man's experiencing before you just send him home with Viagra. Because if the problem is anorgasmia, and he's been taking 30 minutes to get things done, and you give him a vasodilator-- well, not only will you not solve his problem, but when he's now going 60 or 70 minutes, his wife is going to come looking for you. Probably with a gun."
"The commonest problem in young men is actually not ED--it's...(pause for answers, all of which--interestingly enough--were provided by the women of the class) premature ejaculation, that's right. And you're going to have to ask about it, because I can guarantee you, no one ever comes into the office and says, 'Can you help me, doc? I'm a premature ejaculator.'"
"Men will tell you that they use recreational drugs to treat their ED. Listen, guys: Pot and coke don't make it easier to maintain an erection or anything like that. You just don't remember the erections you aren't having."
"It's very important to find out what kind of sexual dysfunction a man's experiencing before you just send him home with Viagra. Because if the problem is anorgasmia, and he's been taking 30 minutes to get things done, and you give him a vasodilator-- well, not only will you not solve his problem, but when he's now going 60 or 70 minutes, his wife is going to come looking for you. Probably with a gun."
"The commonest problem in young men is actually not ED--it's...(pause for answers, all of which--interestingly enough--were provided by the women of the class) premature ejaculation, that's right. And you're going to have to ask about it, because I can guarantee you, no one ever comes into the office and says, 'Can you help me, doc? I'm a premature ejaculator.'"
"Men will tell you that they use recreational drugs to treat their ED. Listen, guys: Pot and coke don't make it easier to maintain an erection or anything like that. You just don't remember the erections you aren't having."
Thursday, October 8, 2009
Things I learned this week, and some quotes
1. "In a differential diagnosis, include the 'mosts.' The most common, the most dangerous, and the most interesting. Though in the case of acute chest pain, skip the most interesting. Because if someone has ST elevation on their EKG and you're talking to the resident about parasitic pericarditis, they're going to hit you with the clipboard. And so they should."
2. "Speaking as an internist, every last one of you in this room has a pulmonary embolism until proven otherwise. That is something you never ever want to miss."
3. Apparently there is an outlet for my hypochondria and tendency to catastrophize: unleash it on my patients! "Put in the differential the absolute worst things it could be...the really bad shit. Because you'd feel really bad if the patient died and you had to say, 'Oh, a pneumothorax...I never thought of that!'"
4. 'If a little is good, a lot is better' does not apply to high-fiber cereal bars, no matter how tasty they may be. Remember that SNL spoof about 'Colon Blow' cereal? Back when SNL was funny? Yeah.
5. Physicians, especially ER docs, really seem to relish catching malingerers. Their eyes always light up when they talk about it, and they start grinning like feral chipmunks. For instance, someone complaining of chest pain angling for MI-type attention who says it hurts when you press *right there* is probably faking it. That's musculoskeletal. "I always tell them, oh, good, I think you're out of the woods. Peace."
6. Having whacked out hormone levels (though not, as of yet, any confirmed $%&# diagnosis) has made me a little...hairier than usual. Supposedly acne is also part of the sideshow. "At least I don't have that," I consoled myself. Wrong. Long workouts + androgens + ubiquitous bacteria = not just acne but, cruelly, ass-ne. *Is there no end to the ignominy?!?!*
7. My first hospital session (with an actual patient) is next week. I'm a little (ok, a lot) nervous. Hopefully I will not blind the patient with the ophthalmoscope or forget part of the physical or lose my train of thought during the history and just sit there staring blankly. No. All will be well.
2. "Speaking as an internist, every last one of you in this room has a pulmonary embolism until proven otherwise. That is something you never ever want to miss."
3. Apparently there is an outlet for my hypochondria and tendency to catastrophize: unleash it on my patients! "Put in the differential the absolute worst things it could be...the really bad shit. Because you'd feel really bad if the patient died and you had to say, 'Oh, a pneumothorax...I never thought of that!'"
4. 'If a little is good, a lot is better' does not apply to high-fiber cereal bars, no matter how tasty they may be. Remember that SNL spoof about 'Colon Blow' cereal? Back when SNL was funny? Yeah.
5. Physicians, especially ER docs, really seem to relish catching malingerers. Their eyes always light up when they talk about it, and they start grinning like feral chipmunks. For instance, someone complaining of chest pain angling for MI-type attention who says it hurts when you press *right there* is probably faking it. That's musculoskeletal. "I always tell them, oh, good, I think you're out of the woods. Peace."
6. Having whacked out hormone levels (though not, as of yet, any confirmed $%&# diagnosis) has made me a little...hairier than usual. Supposedly acne is also part of the sideshow. "At least I don't have that," I consoled myself. Wrong. Long workouts + androgens + ubiquitous bacteria = not just acne but, cruelly, ass-ne. *Is there no end to the ignominy?!?!*
7. My first hospital session (with an actual patient) is next week. I'm a little (ok, a lot) nervous. Hopefully I will not blind the patient with the ophthalmoscope or forget part of the physical or lose my train of thought during the history and just sit there staring blankly. No. All will be well.
Monday, August 24, 2009
Love/Hate
It's that time of the month again...time for things (and people) that piss me off, the Medical Edition! And, because I'm trying to remain positive this year, there will be an equally important Things I Like section.
Things That Piss Me Off
1. When a doctor orders six separate blood tests, and they are tests that need to be done on different Vacutainers of blood, so that I have to give six tubes of blood instead of one. This isn't anyone's fault, per se, it's just one of those things that can't be helped. Also, when the phlebotomist has a hard time finding a vein and rather than WITHDRAWING the needle and trying again, just digs around under the skin...it's an awful feeling. I've drawn blood before, and I've had lots of blood drawn, and it's easier for everyone just to retry.
2. The paper gown. Just when you thought it was impossible for the hospital gown to get any draftier or less comfortable, they've traded in that cloth gown (which, despite being 3 sizes too big, at least provided you with a sense of being somewhat clothed) for one made out of Charmin. No, not even Charmin. Whatever the Aldi brand of toilet paper is, in 1/2 ply.
3. The fact that, despite being gay and despite having been celibate for longer than I care to mention, one of the first several questions any physician will ask me is, "When was your last menstrual period?" Even if I come in for chronic sinusitis. I'm not pregnant, I promise. Or, as I told the X-ray tech the last time I had a chest X-ray, "If I'm pregnant my girlfriend has a lot of explaining to do."
4. That the only medication that has considerably improved my insomnia gives me a hangover effect that keeps me from full consciousness until about noon the next day. During last year's finals, I was 45 minutes late for our Genetics exam because said drug kept me from responding to the alarm. I cycled through 2 anxiety attacks on the way (run!) to class, and got the extreme evil eye from the professor. It's nice to make friends with faculty members who are also in positions of authority within the school at large (ie, if you're going to be late for someone's exam, try not to make it one of the Deans'. Ooops). Thanks, Seroquel!
5. Male gynecologists. I'm sure they're nice people. I know several. I'm probably being sexist. But I don't want a Mormon bartender, I don't want a mechanic who's never driven a car, and I don't want someone without breasts or ovaries examining mine.
Things I like
1. Bandaids with cartoon characters. Call me childish, but Hello Kitty bandages really do make those minor abrasions hurt less.
2. Zyrtec. Can I get a hallelujah from all those with allergies? Zyrtec has made spring and summer enjoyable again. No, I'm not getting paid to say that.
3. Eugenol, or oil of cloves. I had a dry socket (otherwise known as the most painful condition humankind is heir to, outside of childbirth and kidney stones) once, and within seconds of having it packed with eugenol-soaked gauze, the pain was gone. I wanted to kiss the dentist on his big bald head.
4. Ativan. The ultimate anxiolytic, though its usefulness is limited by the fact that it generally leaves me too gorked to perform daily functions. It seems to work as most benzodiazepines do--ie, on the assumption that you can't have a panic attack if you're unconscious.
Things That Piss Me Off
1. When a doctor orders six separate blood tests, and they are tests that need to be done on different Vacutainers of blood, so that I have to give six tubes of blood instead of one. This isn't anyone's fault, per se, it's just one of those things that can't be helped. Also, when the phlebotomist has a hard time finding a vein and rather than WITHDRAWING the needle and trying again, just digs around under the skin...it's an awful feeling. I've drawn blood before, and I've had lots of blood drawn, and it's easier for everyone just to retry.
2. The paper gown. Just when you thought it was impossible for the hospital gown to get any draftier or less comfortable, they've traded in that cloth gown (which, despite being 3 sizes too big, at least provided you with a sense of being somewhat clothed) for one made out of Charmin. No, not even Charmin. Whatever the Aldi brand of toilet paper is, in 1/2 ply.
3. The fact that, despite being gay and despite having been celibate for longer than I care to mention, one of the first several questions any physician will ask me is, "When was your last menstrual period?" Even if I come in for chronic sinusitis. I'm not pregnant, I promise. Or, as I told the X-ray tech the last time I had a chest X-ray, "If I'm pregnant my girlfriend has a lot of explaining to do."
4. That the only medication that has considerably improved my insomnia gives me a hangover effect that keeps me from full consciousness until about noon the next day. During last year's finals, I was 45 minutes late for our Genetics exam because said drug kept me from responding to the alarm. I cycled through 2 anxiety attacks on the way (run!) to class, and got the extreme evil eye from the professor. It's nice to make friends with faculty members who are also in positions of authority within the school at large (ie, if you're going to be late for someone's exam, try not to make it one of the Deans'. Ooops). Thanks, Seroquel!
5. Male gynecologists. I'm sure they're nice people. I know several. I'm probably being sexist. But I don't want a Mormon bartender, I don't want a mechanic who's never driven a car, and I don't want someone without breasts or ovaries examining mine.
Things I like
1. Bandaids with cartoon characters. Call me childish, but Hello Kitty bandages really do make those minor abrasions hurt less.
2. Zyrtec. Can I get a hallelujah from all those with allergies? Zyrtec has made spring and summer enjoyable again. No, I'm not getting paid to say that.
3. Eugenol, or oil of cloves. I had a dry socket (otherwise known as the most painful condition humankind is heir to, outside of childbirth and kidney stones) once, and within seconds of having it packed with eugenol-soaked gauze, the pain was gone. I wanted to kiss the dentist on his big bald head.
4. Ativan. The ultimate anxiolytic, though its usefulness is limited by the fact that it generally leaves me too gorked to perform daily functions. It seems to work as most benzodiazepines do--ie, on the assumption that you can't have a panic attack if you're unconscious.
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
Excessive Awesomeness
I thought our first day back in the saddle with 'Practice of Medicine' would be the same old routine. Nope. The coursemaster (actually, coursemistress...is it more or less PC to call her that?) contributed greatly to the overall awesomeness. So sharp she might cut somebody--and she also appears to have an exquisitely low bullshit tolerance, so she might cut somebody for being inane, too. Which, I will be frank, I like. There was a brief discussion of how to comport ourselves out on the floors, including the admonition to take out the facial piercings and cover the tattoos. Also--and you'd think this wouldn't be an issue at our institution, but alas, it apparently comes up--to be well-groomed and hygienic. To quote Dr. W (all my Ithaca pals are laughing because that's the name of the Wegmans store-brand diet Dr. Pepper I drank by the liter all through college):
"Every year a resident gets the dubious honor of talking to one of the house officers about grooming issues. My favorite ever was, 'J, please wear underwear.' You do not want to be that person."
Mother of God. I can't even imagine the situation in which that talk became necessary. I can see "please don't wear any more leather miniskirts," I can see "please wear an appropriately-sized belt to prevent us seeing your 'Sizzling Scarlet' lace g-string," I can even see "If you're going to wear short skirts, cross your legs when you sit down." But...no underwear? In a hospital? Definitely not hygienic.
"Every year a resident gets the dubious honor of talking to one of the house officers about grooming issues. My favorite ever was, 'J, please wear underwear.' You do not want to be that person."
Mother of God. I can't even imagine the situation in which that talk became necessary. I can see "please don't wear any more leather miniskirts," I can see "please wear an appropriately-sized belt to prevent us seeing your 'Sizzling Scarlet' lace g-string," I can even see "If you're going to wear short skirts, cross your legs when you sit down." But...no underwear? In a hospital? Definitely not hygienic.
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
A to Z of Rare Medical Words
Words I didn't know before I started medical school...in alphabetical order (kewl).
anastamosis-communication between blood vessels
basilar artery-artery located (surprise!) at the base of the brain
Christmas disease-no shit, there really is a Christmas disease. Wouldn't it suck to have to tell someone, "Yes, you have Christmas disease...not Chanukah disease, not Ramadan or Holi disease...Christmas disease. Well, there's your present. Happy holidays." It's a sex-linked hemorrhagic disorder.
decidua--not related to trees; it's a kind of tissue found in the uterus.
enkephalin-a naturally occuring opiate, a la the endorphins.
falx-a sickle-shaped structure, a la the falx cerebri (look it up).
gastrocnemius-the big muscle in your calf.
hapten-a small, separable part of an antigen (look it up again).
imbrication-layers of overlapping tissues in a sutured wound. Use it in an everyday conversation and I'll pay you twenty dollars.
jake leg-paralysis caused by drinking improperly distilled liquor (not related to jimmy leg, which means--I dunno, actually, but it sounds bad. Oh, wait--according to the internet, it's Restless Legs Syndrome).
kallikrein- a vasodilatory peptide, ie, a molecule that dilates blood vessels.
labrum-a ring of cartilage attached to the rim of a joint. But doesn't it sound like a dirty word?
mediastinum- the space between the pleura of the lungs, where the heart is. So, y'know, home isn't where the heart is--the mediastinum is where the heart is.
natriuresis- When you piss away salt. Ie, when your urine contains too much sodium.
obtunded-passed out, to the extent that you don't feel pain when exposed to noxious stimuli.
palmaris longus- a superficial muscle of the forearm.
quinsy- an abcess around the tonsils. Seriously, there aren't a lot of words, period, that start with q, let alone medical words I didn't know before.
reamer-a dental instrument. Yes, it is in fact called that. Didn't you always feel like you were getting reamed at the dentist's?
Saint Louis encephalitis- a viral encephalitis named after the city in which I am now going to medical school. Normally you can't get that kind of deal without getting your MD in a tropical location.
tardive-the adjectival form of lateness. A fancier way to say tardiness-ness, I guess.
unctuous-fatty or oily; One of the side effects of Alli is unctuous anal leakage.
vasa vasorum-literally, vessels to vessels; the small blood vessels that supply the walls of larger arteries or veins.
Wharton's jelly-a form of connective tissue in the umbilical cord that, obviously, has a jellylike consistency. Impossible to eat on toast without vomiting afterward.
Yaws-a tropical infection of pretty much every tissue in your body, caused by a spirochete. Ew.
Zonule of Zinn- double credit! The suspensory ligament of the lens of the eye.
Hope you had fun! I know I did!
anastamosis-communication between blood vessels
basilar artery-artery located (surprise!) at the base of the brain
Christmas disease-no shit, there really is a Christmas disease. Wouldn't it suck to have to tell someone, "Yes, you have Christmas disease...not Chanukah disease, not Ramadan or Holi disease...Christmas disease. Well, there's your present. Happy holidays." It's a sex-linked hemorrhagic disorder.
decidua--not related to trees; it's a kind of tissue found in the uterus.
enkephalin-a naturally occuring opiate, a la the endorphins.
falx-a sickle-shaped structure, a la the falx cerebri (look it up).
gastrocnemius-the big muscle in your calf.
hapten-a small, separable part of an antigen (look it up again).
imbrication-layers of overlapping tissues in a sutured wound. Use it in an everyday conversation and I'll pay you twenty dollars.
jake leg-paralysis caused by drinking improperly distilled liquor (not related to jimmy leg, which means--I dunno, actually, but it sounds bad. Oh, wait--according to the internet, it's Restless Legs Syndrome).
kallikrein- a vasodilatory peptide, ie, a molecule that dilates blood vessels.
labrum-a ring of cartilage attached to the rim of a joint. But doesn't it sound like a dirty word?
mediastinum- the space between the pleura of the lungs, where the heart is. So, y'know, home isn't where the heart is--the mediastinum is where the heart is.
natriuresis- When you piss away salt. Ie, when your urine contains too much sodium.
obtunded-passed out, to the extent that you don't feel pain when exposed to noxious stimuli.
palmaris longus- a superficial muscle of the forearm.
quinsy- an abcess around the tonsils. Seriously, there aren't a lot of words, period, that start with q, let alone medical words I didn't know before.
reamer-a dental instrument. Yes, it is in fact called that. Didn't you always feel like you were getting reamed at the dentist's?
Saint Louis encephalitis- a viral encephalitis named after the city in which I am now going to medical school. Normally you can't get that kind of deal without getting your MD in a tropical location.
tardive-the adjectival form of lateness. A fancier way to say tardiness-ness, I guess.
unctuous-fatty or oily; One of the side effects of Alli is unctuous anal leakage.
vasa vasorum-literally, vessels to vessels; the small blood vessels that supply the walls of larger arteries or veins.
Wharton's jelly-a form of connective tissue in the umbilical cord that, obviously, has a jellylike consistency. Impossible to eat on toast without vomiting afterward.
Yaws-a tropical infection of pretty much every tissue in your body, caused by a spirochete. Ew.
Zonule of Zinn- double credit! The suspensory ligament of the lens of the eye.
Hope you had fun! I know I did!
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
I know I am a medical student because
I get nearly 100% of my fluids from caffeinated beverages.
I have gone out drinking after an anatomy exam...at 11 in the morning.
I spend more time on my cadaver's body on a given day than I do on my own in roughly a week.
I have skipped class...in order to study.
I have learned so many mnemonic devices, I have trouble keeping them all straight (and they all have to do with drinking or sex--especially the ones I've written for myself).
I can now eat a meal while discussing dissection technique (and in fact did so on Sunday night...thanks for the dinner and calvaria-removal talk, Dr. Ginder!)
I have realized that while showers can wait, and laundry can wait, anatomy waits for no man (or woman).
I have had dreams about the brachial plexus.
I have come, after almost a semester of medical school, to realize that I have more to learn than I could ever have previously fathomed. This is both very humbling and terribly exciting.
I have gone out drinking after an anatomy exam...at 11 in the morning.
I spend more time on my cadaver's body on a given day than I do on my own in roughly a week.
I have skipped class...in order to study.
I have learned so many mnemonic devices, I have trouble keeping them all straight (and they all have to do with drinking or sex--especially the ones I've written for myself).
I can now eat a meal while discussing dissection technique (and in fact did so on Sunday night...thanks for the dinner and calvaria-removal talk, Dr. Ginder!)
I have realized that while showers can wait, and laundry can wait, anatomy waits for no man (or woman).
I have had dreams about the brachial plexus.
I have come, after almost a semester of medical school, to realize that I have more to learn than I could ever have previously fathomed. This is both very humbling and terribly exciting.
Sunday, November 2, 2008
Who says there's no fun allowed in med school?
Quotables from the most recent set of lectures
"You can in fact exercise your pubococcygeus muscles. There are exercises called Kegels, and the best thing about them is that no one knows you're doing them...you can stand at the podium and contract them as you're lecturing, for example, and no one has any idea." --Our very funny anatomy prof with an AMAZING British accent
"There are many theories as to why humans evolved bipedal locomotion. To see cheetahs in high grass and avoid being eaten; to be able to wade into water to fish without drowning; to be at the right level to harvest grain. My personal opinion is that it evolved to enable us to drink Bud Light. Try drinking from a can while on all fours sometime...maybe after you've had a couple already. Very difficult. Hence, bipedalism."--Another anatomy prof in a stunning nonsequitor
(On trans fats) "What did you guys have for breakfast? Any McDonalds? How about a glazed doughnut? No? What did you have?"
Student: "Cottage cheese and a bagel."
Prof: "Man, you guys are boring. I knew when I didn't get any questions after the midterm that you were low-key, but...anyway, there are about 5 grams of trans fats in a bagel, 10 in a McDonald's McMuffin. You're only supposed to have 2 grams, max, a day, so after one McMuffin--bam--you're dead for a week."
"You can in fact exercise your pubococcygeus muscles. There are exercises called Kegels, and the best thing about them is that no one knows you're doing them...you can stand at the podium and contract them as you're lecturing, for example, and no one has any idea." --Our very funny anatomy prof with an AMAZING British accent
"There are many theories as to why humans evolved bipedal locomotion. To see cheetahs in high grass and avoid being eaten; to be able to wade into water to fish without drowning; to be at the right level to harvest grain. My personal opinion is that it evolved to enable us to drink Bud Light. Try drinking from a can while on all fours sometime...maybe after you've had a couple already. Very difficult. Hence, bipedalism."--Another anatomy prof in a stunning nonsequitor
(On trans fats) "What did you guys have for breakfast? Any McDonalds? How about a glazed doughnut? No? What did you have?"
Student: "Cottage cheese and a bagel."
Prof: "Man, you guys are boring. I knew when I didn't get any questions after the midterm that you were low-key, but...anyway, there are about 5 grams of trans fats in a bagel, 10 in a McDonald's McMuffin. You're only supposed to have 2 grams, max, a day, so after one McMuffin--bam--you're dead for a week."
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
